


autopilot

by ghostscribe



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Verbal Abuse, like this is angstier than my usual works, this is actually really bad pls don't read this for fun and profit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 03:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21191129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostscribe/pseuds/ghostscribe
Summary: "I think I tried to kill myself."(or: please read the note at the beginning)





	autopilot

**Author's Note:**

> ...so i'm having a rough time.  
or rather, i've been having a rough time for the past decade, and i've been repressing it, and i need to get it out of my head.  
i don't condone of abuse, and i don't encourage self-harm. this is less of a pure work of fiction and more of an outlet for some of my own life experiences.  
i tend to tag things for safety (even if there's just a line of implied suicidal thoughts), and i know i've written a lot of angst, but this is actually a lot, even for me. if you read this, please know this is an outlet and not a romanticization of these topics.  
also, i might delete this. i don't tend to delete my works, but i dunno how long i wanna leave this up. i just had to get it out.

"That wouldn't have happened if you weren't around, you know."

This is why Green doesn't come home anymore.

"Grampa, please, not now," Daisy tries to stop the inevitable conversation, to no avail. "This isn't the time for - "

"Let him rant, sis. No sense in prolonging the inevitable."

"You say that as if I'm _wrong_," the _esteemed_ professor snaps at Green, and Green just takes it, he's sick of fighting it so he's just been dealing with it as of late. "You do know that - "

" - that if I didn't beat Red to the League, the paparazzi wouldn't have stalked him as bad, and if I had been good enough to beat him - "

" - he wouldn't have spiraled out of control, yes. Do you truly realize what you've done to him? Why do you still bother him even after all that?"

Green just rolls his eyes. He refuses to explain his relationship with Red to anyone at this point. They just... they have what they have, they are what they are, gramps is going to grill Green about it constantly and Green is just going to deal with it, it's fine, he's fine, everything is fine, he can handle it.

"Green, you have five seconds to answer me."

"Grampa, can you _please_ leave him alone for once?" Daisy pleads, her voice a mix of fatigue and irritation at this point. "This is why he doesn't come home anymore."

"That's not my problem."

"Not mine, either," Green sighs. "If you want me to go back to Viridian, all you need to do is say it."

"I don't care where you go!" _God_ Green hates when he yells, he hates when - "I just want you to stop getting people killed!"

"Grampa!"

Green's throat feels thick, it feels like it's coated in sludge, like it's filled with sponges saturated with poison. Green says nothing but he knows that means _I wish your parents weren't the ones who died and I wish Red hadn't run away and been presumed dead for two years._

Yeah, Red went missing, and Green felt himself die every day he was gone. Green found Red again on Mount Silver, he hugged him, maybe they fought but every visit since then, he holds Red close and says nothing but soft words to him. Green won't let himself hurt Red ever again.

Unlike Green, the esteemed Professor Samuel Oak doesn't seem to care how his words affect the world around him. That's the only reason Green was such a brat when he was a kid, because that was all he knew, all he knew was constant belittlement from his guardian and all he knew was that he was never - would never be - a good enough kid in his eyes. Green would never be good enough, and god he fought tooth and nail to redeem himself and it just, he just -

"At least you stepped down from the Champion's podium. You didn't deserve it."

\- he just isn't good enough.

"Any other verbal abuse you wanna throw at me before I call it a night?" Green asks in a low voice, with a strain that almost sounds like Red's voice, as if his words are clambering back into his mouth, seeking safety from the outside world.

"That's hardly abuse. You just can't handle the truth of the matter. You know," oh boy, here he goes again, it's the same rant every time, "he was your responsibility," and those words will echo in Green's mind until they drown out anything else. "His mother told you to watch over him, and what did you? Where were you when he bolted, huh?"

"He was twelve!" Daisy finally loses her composure, finally yells back, but fortunately for her, gramps doesn't even bother to acknowledge her. Green has some comfort in knowing he's the sole target of these tangents.

"Where the hell were you?!"

"...chasing him."

"And you lost track of him!"

"...yeah." He did. Honest to god, he did. Red's Charizard was too fast.

"This is - this is why you were never fit to be a Champion, you know!" And it's just going to continue, he's just going to yell the same shit Green's been hearing since he was a kid, and he's going to hold his breath until it's over. "You're unreliable. You're ignorant. You haven't listened to a damn thing I've ever said to you, and it absolutely shows." As if Green hasn't listened to _this,_ as if his own grandfather's words haven't eaten at him for years. "What have you learned over the years, Green? Have you learned anything? Have you ever listened to anyone but yourself?! All you care about is being the _world's best trainer,_ and you can't even do _that_ right!" As if he isn't on Red's tail, as if they aren't evenly matched. "If you had listened to me when you were ten, you know, things would be better. You realize I've always known what's best for you, don't you? Why don't you ever listen to me?"

"This is all you ever tell him anymore." Daisy snaps. "Do you expect him to listen to you?"

"I wouldn't have to repeat myself if he _would_ listen." Green isn't even sure where he's looking right now. His vision is blurry but he's not crying, everything just feels out of focus, words are echoing in his mind and that's, that's all he can really process right now, _he was your responsibility_ with a trace of _you can't even do _that_ right._ "Green!"

Green focuses his vision again, and his eyes meet the professor's sharp gaze.

"...yes?" His voice doesn't sound like his own. Everything sounds unfamiliar and strange.

"Have you been listening to me?" Pause. "Have you _ever_ listened to me?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" He suddenly stands up from the table, knocking over a mostly empty water glass. The sudden physical aggression is enough to send Daisy darting away from him, like he's a rabid Pokémon, a Mega Gyarados, something that can only focus on its aggression until its target is nothing but shreds, until it drinks itself under the table and forgets what happened the next morning. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Green can't answer, can't move. He waits. The professor continues his rampage.

"God fucking - " The toppled glass is swiped to the ground, shattering. A thought crosses Green's mind; he could eat the glass. That might be enough to kill himself. "All you ever do is antagonize me! That's the only thing you're good at, and it's disgusting! It's sickening that you spend so much time training and you've never had anything to show for it! Your father was more successful than you when he was your age, you know. Maybe if you didn't - "

"Leave him alone!" Daisy has to shout over gramps, she has to shout over her own tears, because she knows how that sentence ends too, but it's already been started and the rest of the words play in Green's mind, they're burnt into his memory because he's heard them for years and years and years.

_Maybe if you didn't hide in your room like a coward, my son wouldn't have been burnt alive,_ as if that wasn't Green's father, Daisy's father, as if the professor is the only Oak who felt that loss, as if Green was supposed to do anything else when he was just a kid and his house was on fire.

"Don't defend him! He got them killed, Daisy!"

"He was a child, Grampa! He was - "

"It's his fault your parents are dead! He killed my son! He killed your father! He killed your mother, too!"

" - six! He was six! He was _six years old!_ He was a child!"

Green just gets up from his seat and walks out of the house. Neither gramps nor his sister notice him swipe the boxcutter off the mail desk.

His fault. His fault his fault his fault _my fault - _

Green's mind stops making words now. The world around him feels far away. There was a time he thought he would never be able to empathize with Red's bouts of terror. _It feels like everything is far away, or like nothing is real, like it's a video game and I'm not in control of my body._ There was a time where it was impossible for Green to understand those feelings.

That time was before Red disappeared to Mount Silver.

Green had made a promise to Red recently, the boy still living on that mountain, the love of his life, his unrequited soulmate. He made a promise and he's about to break it in the most spectacular way.

He doesn't remember how he made it to Cinnabar Island, but he did. He can't remember if he sent Gyarados out to ferry him south of Pallet Town, or if maybe he flew on Pidgeot or Charizard, or hell he wouldn't even know if he just walked over the ocean and ended up here. All he knows is that he's on Cinnabar now. Red used to like watching the sunrise from here. He'd collect sea shells, and Green used to make fun of him for it, but now Green collects sea shells and puts them in little mason jars in his Viridian City apartment in hopes that one day he'll have the courage to give them to Red. It could be a wedding gift if Red could love him, but that requires that Red even forgives him, and every time Red says _it's okay, it's not your fault, I'm not mad at you, you're still my best friend, _that esteemed Professor Oak says _you're awful, this was your fault, he was your responsibility, you don't deserve a friend like him,_ and sometimes Red's words lose.

Green feels sand under his feet. Red's words lost today and Green feels sand under his feet.

Sometimes Green considers taking Red up on a strange offer. _You could live with me here, if you miss me that much,_ and the way Red words the request is almost mean, but Green doesn't mind. Red could stab him in the stomach and call him a disgusting freak and Green would be okay with that, so long as he knows Red is still alive. He would let Red bash his head in with a rock if it would make him happy, if it would bring him forgiveness, if that would be a suitable punishment. If he needed to repent, Green would let himself freeze nearly to death and stay alive just long enough to feel that pain forever and anywhere and always always _always -_

He cuts.

He cuts deep.

It's the first time he's actually done this, but he cuts and he cuts deep.

For a moment, Green's quiet mind urges him to look at what's happening. The blade is in his arm. It's angled so he could slide it up his arm, rather than across his wrist.

_He was your responsibility_ and _it's his fault your parents are dead _and a recollection of a muttered _your father should've left you there to burn_ from a few days ago.

_Promise me you'll take care of yourself,_ said in Red's voice, and Green regrets to admit his rival's voice loses today.

Green sobs, pulls the blade up his forearm, and oddly, he's smiling. Red's voice echoes and he clings to that but his body is still moving against his will, as if his grandfather's hand is on his own, as if he's the one driving the knife into him and spilling his blood on the sand and on his shoes and into the water lapping at his feet.

In a way, he is. In a way, it's gramps's fault that Green hit this low, but _it's his fault,_ it's Green's fault, he should be better than this but he's not he's not _I'm not good at anything anyway and no one would miss me_ even though he knows somewhere in his heart that Red would miss him dearly _god I miss you so much it hurts - _

"I love you, Red."

The blade skips when it hits the inside of his elbow, then digs back into him, buries itself in his bicep; or no, rather, Green cuts himself, the knife has nothing to do with it, gramps has nothing to do with it, this is all his own actions and it's going to snow tomorrow and Green is going to sob into his bed and and and -

"I love you."

\- and Red is still going to be up there -

"I love you."

\- and Red is his only fucking chance at ever being loved because his family hates him -

"I love you."

\- but Red won't love him -

"I love you."

\- because Green is a failure, and no one could love someone who's failed at everything they've ever done.

He has failed. He was only Champion for a month. He's been researching but he's nowhere near a big name scientist. He's a gym leader but people have won his badge. He couldn't stop Red from running away and he couldn't bring Red home. He had to tell Red's mom that he couldn't make her son come home. He failed.

And that's all he's done.

Green doesn't hear himself over the ringing in his ears, but he feels his voice in his throat. He feels himself fucking _laughing_ and he feels the legs of his pants growing damp as the ocean waves come to meet him. He dropped to his knees at some point.

He tastes salt. It's either tears or sea mist.

_Don't go in the water. _That's another promise Green broke today. Red is afraid of the coast of Cinnabar. Something happened but Green can't remember what it was now. The dampness feels hot. Maybe the ocean is hot. Maybe it's blood. He's not sure.

Green is seeing three, maybe four of his arms, maybe hundreds of droplets of red, of Red, red, Red, maybe if he bleeds enough the color will summon his love and maybe Red will come home and things can get better.

His tan pants are stained burgundy with something. Maybe it's blood. He's not sure. He forgets what he's doing here. He forgets where he is or what he's holding. His arm hurts. He must've slept on it funny.

Green's body moves, maybe he moves it or maybe his body just moves, _like it's a video game and I'm not in control of my body._ There's a searing pain on his right arm. Maybe he bumped it on something. Maybe it's blood. Maybe something stung him. He's okay, though. He's not good at anything so it doesn't matter if he's hurt or not.

_Everyone is mad at you._ It's not quite Green's inner voice saying that, but it's in his head.

"Apologize." Apologize. "Apologize, apologize, apologize - "

Every word brings more agony. His arm might be more lacerations than clean skin by now. He's not sure. He can't tell if he's actually cutting himself or not. He can't tell if he's hurt. His ears are ringing and he can't tell if he's speaking anymore. He can't tell if he can speak. Maybe he could give Red his vocal chords for his birthday and Red could come home and speak and be brave and be happy and maybe that would be okay.

"Apologize."

That hurts.

"Apologize."

_Fuck that hurts -_

He hit a nerve, he thinks, that has to be it, and that - that snaps Green out of whatever world he was just in. It takes a moment to process this world, though. It takes a moment for him to process the sand he's kneeling in, the crashing waves, the heavy smell of salt and copper, the red, Red, red, he's bleeding and he's holding something, he's holding some kind of boxcutter to his skin oh god oh god _oh god -_

He just - he screams. He doesn't remember anything but he supposes this is his fault, and it actually _is_ his fault, he has no one else to blame for this. He's alone on Cinnabar Island. No one came to attack him, no. It's just him and the boxcutter in his hand, in his arm _it's still in my arm - _

"Stop it!" Green finally takes control of his body again. He throws the boxcutter across the beach and hyperventilates but no air seems to reach his lungs. The blood on the knife splatters across the sand in weird little spirals. Duly, he's reminded of a toy from his childhood, a device that would spin a piece of paper for he and Daisy to splatter paint on, it would make paint spirals and it was kinda fun. The paintings were on their refrigerator before the house burnt to the ground.

He feels dizzy. He's in a puddle of blood.

...how much blood did he lose?

He feels a hot droplet hit his leg again. Green comes back to this world and realizes again that he's bleeding.

"Oh god."

He's crying.

"Oh god - "

He's _terrified._

"What did I do?" Green asks the empty beach, the sea, his own blood, Red, someone, something, anything that could answer him, but nothing cares to reply. "What did I do?!"

Green swipes his hand over his right arm, and he smears his own blood across it, smears blood onto his left hand. He feels dozens and dozens of ridges on his skin that weren't there before.

He cut himself. He actually -

_"What did I do?!"_

There's no answer. He's reduced to whimpering sobs and desperate gasps for air.

_Dad help - _

Oh, right. His dad is dead. Both his parents are dead. They're dead because he was afraid of a little heat. They're dead because he was frozen in fear when his house went up in flames around him.

"No, no, nonononono - " Somehow the boxcutter got back into his hand, or maybe he's the one who crawled over to it and picked it back up. A fragmented trail of blood sits between his current position and the largest red stain in the sand.

"No - "

He feels the metal touch his skin, and somehow he manages to launch the fucking boxcutter into the ocean.

"No!"

Silence. As if -

"Red - "

\- as if Red were here, or maybe his mind is just reeling for someone who could comfort him -

"Red!"

\- but he's not here. Green's mind is reeling for anything that could make him happy right now. The only boy that could make him happy right now is nine thousand meter above sea level, and Green is at the edge of the ocean.

"Help..."

Green is shaking, almost violently, as if the volcanic island is about to erupt again.

"Help." It starts to click. "I... I need..." There it is. "I need help. I need - "

Green manages to pull his phone out of his pocket. He drops it twice in the sand and speckles it in bloody fingerprints, but he manages to make a call.

"Hello, Green," Lance answers calmly, and it might just be Green's mind shattering under the weight of his grandfather's words, but he almost imagines that maybe Lance has his dad's voice, and maybe Green didn't actually get his parents killed, maybe things are okay. "Green? Are you there?"

Green chokes on his words at first, but he manages to get them out. "C-Come to Cinnabar. I - I-I need help."

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Green can hear motion on the other end. Lance is en route, hopefully. Hopefully that's what that means. Green knows he's fucking useless but he hopes Lance will bother to give him a hand.

The phone drops out of his hand. Green collapses onto the sand and sobs as hard as the day of the fire.

"Green? Green!" He hears Lance through the phone, albeit muffled by the ringing in his ears and the sand. Green manages to pick it up again, somehow, just in time for another reply. "Green, tell me what's going on!"

"I don't know!" he sobs, he shakes, he feels sand sticking to the blood on his arms and it stings where it creeps into his wounds. "I don't know, I don't know, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, please don't be mad at me - !"

Oh god, oh god, oh if heaven would listen to him, he would beg. That's all Green wants. He wants someone to say, for once in his life -

"I don't even know what's happening, Green. Please settle down and tell me what's going on."

_\- I'm not mad at you, Green._

Red is the only one who's ever said that to him, Green realizes. He wants to hear it again. _I'm not mad at you._

"Green, I'm on my way. Don't go anywhere."

The call ends. Green sobs and he thinks he may have passed out at some point. He only comes to - or maybe he refocuses on the world - when he hears wings flapping above him.

"Green?"

It's Lance. His voice sounds too far away, even if he is hovering on his Dragonite.

"Green!"

Lance and the dragon land beside Green, and he manages to sit up. He only looks at Lance for a fraction of a second before he's overwhelmed with _it's my fault_ again and, and -

"I'm sorry!" - and he just - he just talks, he _screams,_ he - "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I don't know what happened, I don't know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry - !"

Lance is holding his arms wordlessly. Green is bawling too hard to look at him, or anything. Any time he opens his eyes, the world is too blurry, and he decides he doesn't want to see it anyway, because it doesn't want to see him, and - fuck, maybe if he cut a little deeper, if he had stayed in that beautiful lethal trance, he would be dead and Hell would be happy to take him into its loving arms.

_I'm sorry,_ but Green is just wailing, and no words really come out. He feels Lance lift him up, and he lets it happen. He feels wind on his face. He can barely make a sound anymore.

That's all he knows right now. Things are getting blurrier by the second. He feels heavy.

"I'm sorry." His voice is almost gone from screaming.

"It's okay, Green," and then Lance says it, "I'm not mad." Oh _thank you, thank you, thank you - _"Let's just - We're going to go to the Pokémon Center."

"They'll be mad at me." He's not sure if he said that or not until Lance answers.

"No, no, they won't be mad. It's their job to help; they would be happy to help you, okay? Just... Just stay calm. Stay calm. You're gonna be okay."

"I killed my parents." And he still believes that he's a murderer, he still believes his grandfather -

"Green - "

"I killed Red." - even when everyone else has told him his grandfather's words are nothing but lies and misplaced mourning.

"What are you saying?"

"Please don't be mad at me!"

Green doesn't realize his last few sentences were too slurred for Lance to understand. He's blacking out on that thought and oh god, oh god, oh if heaven would listen to him, he would beg it to take him away from this world.

He hopes he lost enough blood. He hopes Red isn't mad at him for breaking his promise.

_Take care of yourself._ Green promised he would.

He tried.

He failed.

As always.

* * *

"How did you get that hurt?"

"I don't know. I don't remember."

"Do you remember anything that happened before that?"

"Went home for dinner. Daisy wanted me to come over."

"Was your grandfather there?"

"Yeah."

"Did you argue again?"

Green is trembling. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Green. I'm not mad at you." Lance's voice is so soft, so careful, and it makes Green feel just a little bit better, it almost makes him forget that his arms are bandaged and that he's going to have lifelong scars. "I'm not mad."

"Why do these things keep happening to me?" Lance just hugs Green, probably for the hundredth time today. He holds Green like a parent would hold a child, he holds him and Green feels like his life could be worth something again, he feels like someone wants him around. "Does the world not want me here? I _tried_ to leave, okay?! I tired!"

Green shouts at the cold and uncaring world, and he sobs, and Lance smooths his hair down. It feels familiar in a hazy way, a trace of a childhood memory too far away, too deeply buried under his grandfather's hatred to reach.

"I tried! I tried, and I couldn't even do _that_ right!"

"I'm glad you're still here, Green." Green just sobs into Lance's shoulder. "I'm sure Red will be happy to see you again, too."

And that suddenly occurs to him. It occurs to Green that if he was successful, Red wouldn't know where he went. Neither would Eevee. Neither would any of his Pokémon. Is Ethan old enough to understand what suicide is? Does Daisy know how bad he's been feeling?

And _that_ suddenly occurs to him, too. He hasn't told anyone how bad he feels about himself. He hasn't told anyone how often he thinks of hurting himself and how he thinks maybe it could fix everything. He hasn't told anyone about - about anything, no one knows anything - no one _knew_ anything, rather, until now, and even now, Lance is still in the dark because Green can't just fucking spit it out.

"Green? Can you tell me what happened?"

_Suicide_ flickers in his mind again, and Green feels like he's realizing this for the first time - and he is, actually, or maybe this is the first time he's admitting it to himself. "I think I tried to kill myself."

He feels Lance's grip on him tighten. "Did you... Did you do this to yourse- "

_Oh god he's mad at me - _"I'm sorry!"

"No, no, it's okay, you're okay, I'm not mad at you," and part of Green knows it isn't actually _okay,_ it's not okay that he sunk to this level, but - "I'm not angry, I promise. I just - I need to know what happened, Green. I want to help you. Please, tell me everything you can."

"I cut myself." He blurts that out the second he realizes that's exactly what happened, he spills all his memories as soon as they hit him. "Gramps yelled at me again and I couldn't take it this time, I left and I took the boxcutter off the mail desk and, and, I don't know, I don't know how I got to Cinnabar but I did and then I was bleeding and, and, and..." He takes a breath, just one, a breath he wishes he couldn't take, "I... did this. I think. I dunno. I don't remember."

"What did he say to you?"

"He made me want to die. He makes me wanna die. I think he wants me dead."

Lance stops questioning him. He holds Green as if he were his father and he lets him weep and he whispers _I'm not mad at you_ over and over and over until Green can play his voice on repeat like a broken record, or maybe the best part of a newly discovered song.

It isn't until the next day that Green settles his thoughts long enough to tell Lance everything his grandfather said, every single word. Lance listens and holds Green and promises to make it all better and Green feels like he has a father again.

Lance never mentions it to Green, but a week later, the dragon tamer takes a trip to the lab in Pallet Town. He walks in, cordially greets Professor Oak, breaks his nose with one swift punch and says something to the effect of _if I ever see you abuse that boy ever again, you'll take a Hyper Beam to the fucking skull. _

Green will learn about that incident years later, after Red comes home, after things have settled down, years after his last conversation with his grandfather. Green will fly to the Indigo Plateau, he'll throw himself into Lance's arms and weep _thank you_ and _I'm sorry_ into his shoulder, and Lance will hold him like a father and answer every sob with _you're welcome_ and _it's okay, I'm not mad at you,_ and Green will feel just an ounce of trauma lift off his shoulders.

The scars will never heal, but the weight of them will become light enough that Green will wear a t-shirt on his and Red's honeymoon. He'll call Lance midway through their getaway while Red naps with his head in Green's lap, Green will thank him again, he'll call Lance _dad_ and Lance will call him _son_ and things will feel right.

Green will hear news of his grandfather's death some years after his marriage.

He won't attend the funeral.


End file.
